Undefined Prison
I am confined to prison,
not of walls,
but of rules.
Of authority,
and tradition
and repetition.
The air I breath
is heavy-
and dense-
my handcuffs
and ankle chains.
The roof over my head a mere
verbal warning, a threat from above.
My pencil a bind,
a burden,
to my work-
monotony,
never ending.
A cell of a room,
freedom,
so close-
yet kept withdrawn
by iron bars-
policies and procedures.
Am I looking out,
or staring in?
- Kerrie
YOU ARE READING
Meaningless Little Book of Poems
PoetryThis is a boom of poems that I have written recently. They are my babies. If they suck, please tell me so - politely! If ya love them, please tell me as well! A lot of these feelings that I wrote about are true...